


Steeled Hearts

by orphan_account, TheEarlyKat



Series: Android!au [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Canon-Typical Violence, I only have some idea of what I'm doing, M/M, Machines Assisting in Generating Energy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other additional characters to be added, Science Fiction, Warnings May Change, Where mages are robots, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarlyKat/pseuds/TheEarlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thedas is powered by the Circles, major electrical and assembly plants run by the Templars. M.A.G.Es - Machines Assisting in Generating Energy, work constantly to meet the demand of the public under their strict eye, eliminating any bugs that might disrupt the system. </p>
<p>Two new medicinal androids from the Anderfels, Anders and Karl, have been shipped to Kinloch Hold after a damaging accident to the plant. Programmed to fix both human and robot injuries, one finds its program to be unfavorable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kinloch Hold sat in the center of Lake Calinhad, far from any eager eyes that stood on the shores in the early mornings at the Spoiled Princess or across the land in the Bannorn. Flat barges carried supply across the choppy waters and although their burdened decks, laden with odd assortments of metals and tools stacked next to fruits and meats, until their forms were swallowed up the smoke that was ever present around the tower. It seeped out of the hundreds of stacks sticking out like quills, tall, proud, warning of the power that lay just beneath the roofs they erupted from. It poured, insistently, at all hours of the day, from the main chimney. 

There were only half-hearted guesses around the table and wild stories whispered among children to frighten each other about the Templars that roamed the halls within and the monsters they created to work the bellows. The embers that spit forth from the stacks fueled the Circles as much as their tales, until the truth was shrouded in as much mystery as the tower was in its own smog. 

Human experiments was the common theory, whether it be to test new medicines and procedures or weapons, the latter being the most popular as whispers of war drifted across the country from the south. There was enough scrap metal and coal loaded into crates for the rumor to form into something more solid, and the public nodded at the smoke of the forges beneath the towers in content with their ideas. The merchants and sailors didn’t question, even when pressed for answers by the few that still found the Circles curious. The Templars were stone-faced and tight-lipped, and the pay was well enough to leave their stern expressions alone. 

Slavery was the theory less mentioned, save for darker nights in darker houses, when the power the Circle generated for Fereldan dwindled in the harsher winter months and the machinery produced was of less quality. There were few, very few, that spoke of the men and women working in the Circles of countries further to the East, never tiring, never complaining, and creating crafts in which no mere human could in a lifetime for the magisters they lived with. Glassy-eyed, they were always described as. Thin and pale and never far from those they worked for.

The Templars neither admitted nor dismissed any of the claims, if they were head at all, as secluded as they made themselves. Rarely were they seen beyond the docks of the lake, taking stock of their trades and reporting their exports. There were few times when they were called out to collect certain materials, and, as the word of war made itself more prominent, they hunted for news of the rumors. Those that were questioned were eerily quiet after the encounters. Some were never heard from again. 

Most soon realized it was better to keep their opinions to themselves when the matter came up, and the public encouraged the silence. The Circle was giving them power, a stable economy. What sort of repayment were horrible rumors and prying comments for the lights in their houses and the heat of their furnaces? 

Their estimates were not far from the truth. The machines churning and grinding inside the Circle had to be powered, and the Templars were not the force behind the blazing fires that lit up the sky in bright reds and the grey smoke in the daylight. The same men and women that walked behind the heels of the magisters in the strange lands of the east, that followed without question, had brethren that spoke no word against their work at the assembly line. 

They would have been slaves if only for the lack of life that ran alongside their lack of freedom. 

Kinloch Hold, one of the many Circles in Thedas, distributed by the Chantry Corporation, was the powerhouses of Fereldan. Electricity was their main business, with machinery following and medicines not far behind. The Templars acted like its merchants, its bankers, its distributers…its guards. For, inside, as long as the fires were burning, their charges were working, tirelessly, mindlessly, with only breaks for recharging and oil. 

The Circles were dependent on the androids they built. M.A.G.Es: Machines Assisting in Generating Energy. 

_____________________________________________

“We can’t have another accident, not like the last one,” Greagoir said, watching the newer of the recruits out of the corner of his eye. The heavy thud of his boots on the floors gave way to a ringing silence and the younger man flinched but turned to face him. Greagoir waited for him to raise his chin. “You know what mistakes you have made and how to learn from them? We can’t waste any more resources on cleaning up messes and fixing the mages.”

“Yes, Knight-Commander,” Cullen answered, and Greagoir pursed his lips as the man dropped his gaze once more to his feet. Cullen cleared his throat and shifted his weight in an attempt to get comfortable. “But, you’ll happy to learn that the recently ordered types have been delivered from the Anderfels. Their stronger alloys should prevent them from much damage – n-not that there should be, again, in the first place – and, in the…unlikely event that it does happen, these have been programmed with some of the best medicinal procedures for both man and machine.” 

Greagoir nodded, a corner of his mouth twitching up as the trainee fidgeted under his watch while he explained. Cullen rolled his shoulders when he was finished and the commander took another moment to let the pressure build before placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “Can you get them running before the end of the day?”  
Cullen blinked rapidly before nodding. “It’s a foreign program, ser, but there’s already mages there in assembly putting them together. I was on my way to check the progress.” 

“Is someone with them now?”

“I’m…I’m not sure, Knight-Commander.” The hand left his shoulder and the fabric beneath went cold. “I’ll be on my way.”

“I want news as soon as their systems are stable. They’ll need to be connected to the main before they can begin.”

“Of course, ser. I’ll send someone right away.” He scurried down the remainder of the hall, arms locked at his sides, until he turned the corner and no longer felt the weight of eyes on his back, heavier than the armor that protected his torso from chemicals and wayward machinery. Cullen winced, tossing out the memory of the accident on his mind, and reminded himself of his duty. 

One of the oldest of the mages, the fabricated hair turning white and thinning in the ages it spent in the Circle, tied tight into a bun, was working on connecting the two mages to their newly assigned chargers. The lights in the room dimmed as the power redistributed, and though Cullen felt his hands clench, the woman never hesitated in her work. There was no cause for concern. The android would warn him of danger. 

“How are they looking, Wynne?”

The old mage pressed a hand to the chest of both android, one a thin, reedy blond with shoulder length hair held up in a tight ponytail and its opposite, a shorter, well-rounded male with silver hair and an impressive beard, before addressing him. 

“Not a scratch on them, my dear. I think they will do this Circle proud. It is not often these types are made. I, myself, have only seen a few, and rarely in this tower. I am glad you assigned me to them. I would like to know of any updates on the programs, or any differences between ours. Is that sufficient?”

“Do you think the Knight-Commander would find it so?”

The thin skin covering the metal frame of the mage bunched at the corner of her eyes. “You would find a way to make it sound so.”

Cullen let out a light breath and shrugged. “You know me well.”

The android rattled out a chuckle. “It is not just you, dear.” The lights dimmed again and a brief flash of light lit her profile in green when the initial charge was completed. It would be hours, still, before either were fully functional, but Cullen went to the pair nonetheless. Wynn stepped out of his way to check the charge on the other. 

“Do these have names,” Cullen asked, tapping the display around the thinner man’s neck. 

“The one you are examining is Anders. His counterpart is Karl.”

“Anders,” the Templar mulled. “Are they running out of names, over there, I wonder.” He let the device clank against the mage’s chest. “Anders? It’s time to begin.” There was a whirr and eyelids flickered lifelike over eyes that flash blue, data scrolling across the glass, before darkening into brown.


	2. Chapter 2

The body beneath him was a certain softness he was uncertain of, and Anders squeezed the arm offered to him to check for irregularities. Resistance met his grip, which a part of his memory deemed appropriate, but the structure and density of the bone he found was strange. Human then, he decided, and his input switched from a data collection of synthetic anatomy to biological. The sensors on his hands, sensitive pads on his fingertips, adjusted and normal levels of temperature, heart rate, and fat tissue registered.

Anders lifted his gaze from the arm to the man who owned it, eyes darting from his pupils to his lips and the lines crossing his forehead for any sign of discomfort. Wrinkles at the corners of his temples alerted a warning and Anders focused on signs that correlated with the motion - heightened breathing and the thinnest sheen of sweat across of his brow.

"There's no need to be nervous," Anders assured, and the man flinched at the sudden noise. Anders worked his jaw and swallowed to loosen the voice box in his throat. "Routine check-up. Would you like me to look at your other arm?"

"No, no, I think that's - I think it's fine. You're fine." Anders let his grip up slightly and made note of the faint imprints on the skin beneath his hand. The man blinked at them himself before turning his gaze away to direct it at the one standing in front of them. His arms had been crossed until he was spoken to, and he dropped them to lean his weight against the empty cot before him, placed as a barrier between his person and the newest android.

He raised a graying brow in question, attention flickering between the man and android. "Does it feel fine, Cullen? Do you believe you've been attended to accordingly?"  
Anders kept his eyes trained on the man beside him, cataloging his shifting for future reference, and let the hand go when Cullen pulled his arm free. "I wasn't injured to begin...I, I mean, yes. As a testing run, I would call it successful, Knight-Commander."

Greagoir nodded and straightened. "What about you Wynne? What do you think?"

The older android hadn't said a word, and Anders had forgotten she was in the room. There hadn't been much time between his initial start up and his first experimental run to take stock of his surroundings, and the procedures that weren't important or related to his main function of healing were still slowly turning on, leaving his memory bank feeling sluggish and fuzzy while they came on-line, and he took the moment the woman was using to examine his surroundings. 

The nervous man, Cullen, had found no comfort in taking his arm back by the way he held it close to his chest, hand idling rubbing at the fading marks. Greagoir was calmer, though Anders wondered if it was the line made by the cot that gave him a sense of protection. He was taller, his uniform a darker shade than that of Cullen's, and the lack of expression had him listed as a superior when he finished the superficial analysis. This man was running the test, and Anders could not tell if he was passing. 

"I cannot say, Greagoir, with full certainty. This model is of a newer make, one I cannot say I know well, even if the basic procedures are similar to what I am accustomed to. A routine check-up may be the safest way to initiate them, but it is not enough to eliminate any thought of errors." Cullen paled and she gave him a smile, the expression growing when Anders felt his face attempt to imitate the motion. 

Greagoir shifted and waved a hand. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Only time will time for certain, I'm afraid. But, for now, it is a yes, if that settles your mind."

"It does if its coming from you. Cullen?" The Templar jumped and Anders placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, only clamping down harder when he jerked away. "We'll be doing the same with the other one."

Anders felt his hold tighten while the words registered. "This other one. Do you mean the android shipped with me? Where is he? I don't remember..." Anders searched his database for the remaining information he could gather from a database that had not yet fully booted up. There was nothing before the sudden flood of information that threatened to overwhelm his systems and he dug deeper, forcing more of his memory to start. His chest warmed with the efforts and Cullen shifted uneasily beneath him. "Karl. Where is Karl?"

"Already cognitive, and not so soon after start up. He's initializing faster than I thought. Keep an eye on him, will you, Wynne?" The older android nodded. "Cullen, we're to start the next examination." 

The resulting groan left him even more uneasy, unsure of what had transpired and still with a lack of answer. No more words were traded between the two Templars as they left, and facial cues would take more time to sort through before he could understand them at a deeper level. He was left wondering if he had passed his own examination, and his hands idly smoothed the wrinkled sheets of the cot Cullen had been sitting on in the hopes another step would be presented to him. The sudden empty future unnerved him.

"Your friend will be fine." The woman had come to stand closer to him and handed him a different sheet, folded. "They like to take precautions, particularly with the newer machines. Old types like me may be more reliable now that we've been running longer, but times change and we, as loyal as we are, just can't compete with the changes. You two just keep doing what you feel is right and you'll settle in in no time."

Anders wrung his hands in the cloth, at a loss for a response. Between the assault of constant data and the need to learn more about the current situation, there was no 'right' in his thoughts to help him through to a next step, but the woman simply placed a hand over his. 

"The first day is always confusing. Focus on the present, for now, while it all settles in. And, for now, it's ideal to change the sheet after use, no matter the injury, right dear?"

"Sanitary," Anders confirmed, and the woman gave his hand a pat. 

"That's right, dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to end up with at least three tabs on words associated with robots and androids so the same ones don't happen five dozen times. The chapters should be getting longer as this continues and events are more planned out. Thank you all for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Anders tucked the last corner of the sheet tight around the mattress of the cot and wiped his palms on his robes. Wynne made no comment when he shifted on his feet, content to sit in one of the chairs near the door to the small infirmary. Anders moved hesitantly towards the pile of sheets, and glanced at her once more before sliding the first from the stack. His fingers clenched and unclenched in the soft silk, excess electricity and static made it snap and cling to his skin, but the repetitive motion soothed a restless he could not place. 

The Templars would be back, surely, with some directive and, possibly even, with Karl in tow. It was only a manner of time that his test would conclude with success, and they could be together like his engineering stated was necessary. The lack of the other android caused a buzz throughout his systems, a kind of error message that was buried deep in a tangle of processors and active hard drives. The wrongness of it, of not having Karl there, stretched his battery thin, and keeping his systems cool despite the energy pouring in to finding a malfunction that wasn't there merely drained it more. Anders cut power towards unnecessary programs and switched to a power saving mode. His motions became sluggish, but the clumsy folding job was worth redoing if it meant staying upright longer. He was not aware of any regulations to charging and he would not shut down without knowing first that Karl was safe. 

Anders turned of the wireless connectivity and lowered power in his limbs and returning to changing the sheets of the other mattresses. He counted them as he went, tapping each post as he tucked and folded and tucked once more, moving onto the next when it was sufficiently smoothed of any wrinkles. He fluffed pillows and patted down lumps, occasionally glancing up from his work to take note of Wynne. Still she sat in her chair with her hands folded in her lap and a soft smile on her face that caused the skin to bunch around the corners of dark eyes. Those dark lights followed him as he puttered from cot to cot and eventually from counter to counter. Karl was still missing and Anders was still wasting time, sweeping away dust that no longer clung to tabletops and wiping down appliances already washed just to keep his hands busy. 

"Wynne." There was nothing left to clean - or even re-clean - and he was left leaning against one of the counters. If he sat on a cot he would have to find a new sheet and that would require leaving the room. He was almost tempted to, if only to use the excuse for new bedding to search the floor for Karl, but his programs kept him in place. Perhaps if he actually sat on a cot...

Anders shook his head and wound his fingers in the fringe of this robe, tightening his grasp rhythmically to loosen the springs in his hands from the monotonous motions of making beds. 

The old android was watching him with a bemused twist to her mouth when he brought himself out of his thoughts and he focused on the stretch of skin tight over cheeks to remain in the present. The skin had worn down to something nearly translucent, showing off the darker metal skeleton beneath. Chipped squares of steel were mottled with stains behind her lips, and Anders ran his tongue across his own upper teeth - smooth and intact. She was obsolete, Anders determined, in need of a replacement and the reason for Karl's and his shipment. New androids that were updated to fit the current society and progressive enough to both understand and use the advancing technology.

"Yes, dear?" she encouraged at his hesitation, shifting out of the chair she occupied at the front of the room. Her footsteps were heavy and slow, herself made of thicker material unlike the lightweight steel he was, and a list of easily found polish to compensate scrawled across his internal screens. 

"Where is Karl? I thought..." He shook his head, closing the window in his peripheral. His systems were all active and updated, his connection to the Circle's servers complete, if off for now. Karl's should have come on-line as well, and if he was the same make as himself, there should have been minimal problems. Weisshaupt was a reputable company, he decided, checking the manufacturer for himself with a quick search, to reassure himself. Karl should not have been taking this long. If he could stretch his battery just a bit longer to reconnect and search the current users of the internet he could possibly find Karl's signal and where it was coming from...

"I do not believe he was set for the same task as you." She placed a hand on his arm and it was cold where it made contact with his wrist. "There's no cause for concern. He was mostly likely brought to a different section of the Circle to assess his first task."

"But should it have taken this long?" He lifted his gaze from where it was fixed upon her hand to meet her gaze, but unlike the Templars there were no answers to be found in the flat LED lights that made up her eyes. They flashed a lighter color while she weighted her thoughts and responses but there was no further information to gather from her expression outside it. 

"I can't say. It has been a long time since my own introductory assessment." The grip around his wrist tightened for just a moment before she let go completely. "I can ask around and if I find him, I'll be sure to bring him here." She paused before the doorway and turned, the smiling falling from her face and Anders noted the stillness she adopted at the automatic response that came from her. "Will there be anything else?"

"I don't think so." She waited a moment longer in case he changed his mind, and Anders tapped a quick finger against his thigh before turning on his heel to search the cabinets and closets lining the perimeter of the room. It would be easier to think less of Karl if there was more information to process, and there was no harm in registering where items were organized if he ever had quick need of them. He might be using this room later, after all, if this was where the Templars left him.

Anders found a broom in a closet and pulled it out to lean against the wall, twisting his hands around the handle and letting the splinters attract the notice of his sensors to take pressure off his internal systems. The floor was the least thing that needed cleaning out of everything in the room that did not necessarily need to be cleaned, but it would be another time-consuming activity both busy and productive. He would start in one corner and work his way towards the door, and if Wynne or any Templars didn't show before he finished, he'd take the matter into his own hands. 

The thought of leaving the room grew into an insistent concern as he neared the chair Wynn had previously occupied. His gaze shifted restlessly from the floor to the doorway until, eventually, he was watching the few androids passing by rather than where he swept. He had no knowledge of the Circle, where he was in relation to any room let alone the one Karl had been taken too, or when and where any Templar would be at this time. No order had been given to stay in the infirmary, but neither was there one allowing for him to leave.

Anders set the broom against the chair and wiped his hands once more on his robes before taking the last few steps to the door and peeked his head out. There were few with business in the rooms along the hall, he noted, as a pair of androids turned a corner with a Templar following close behind. He registered no movement after, and Anders, waiting just a bit longer, finally stepped out of the room. 

Any reprimand would be tolerated more easily than the unsettling buzz in the back of his mind that called for Karl's return. 

The broom was left in the corner, the rest of the room's dirt no longer his primary concern, as he started down the hall. The intersection at the end was his destination but he made note of the stairwell on the opposite end, closest to him, and the doors along the walls. Where they led and what they held could be investigated at a later date, and Anders began sketching out a map. A mini screen popped in the corner of his vision and lines danced across the plane, distracting only for a moment, as they crossed and folded into a 2D map of the floor as he walked the corridors. He kept his steps slow and steady, quiet to be able to hear any others above his own and remain calm in their eyes if spotted.   
Anders found no one around the corner that he thought could either point him in the right direction or order him back and he paused to consider his options. The shorter end of the hall ended in another stairwell, though whether it circled up or down he couldn't be sure. The other end stretched on to meet a wall, with several more doors. Not nearly as many as the hall he was in; the rooms must have been larger. 

Anders turned to the shorter hallway. If Karl was taking longer than necessary, the chances he was on a different floor were highest. 

The stairwell led up, he found, upon opening the door. The lines on the map switched briefly to an arrow marking the direction and he began his ascent, pausing when voices drifted down from the upper floor. There were several, Anders thought, after tuning out the echoes and reflections the stairwell caused. They weren't moving. Guarding, perhaps, and Anders continued upwards with an explanation on his lips.

A small common room spread out before him. Barred windows let in a sunset that reflected off a glass table surrounded by several couches. The three men sitting in two of them glanced up at his entrance with varying expressions, but all raised eyebrows and down-turned mouths had him shifting uneasily on the threshold. 

"Why aren't you in your room?" one of them asked. His brow was the most furrowed, his frown the deepest, and his lip was twisted further by a scar running from the corner of his mouth to his ear. His companion nudged him with an elbow but it was the one sitting in the couch across from them that stood to address him. 

"He's one of those new ones, I'll bet."

"Yes," Anders confirmed, and he backed up a step when the man came forward, his chest piece clanking with every swing of his arms. He'd known there was a chance of being caught and facing some sort of consequence, but the threat of his stance was more than he anticipated. A warning went off when his last step met empty air and he straightened to stand his ground. The compulsion to find Karl was stronger than his unease. "Karl Thekla?"

"That your name?" Anders opened his mouth to answer but the Templar waved the question away. "Doesn't matter anyway. Why are you out of your room?" His hands were on his hips and Anders tracked the movement carefully. 

"I wasn't...I had an initial start up with Greagoir and was given no further instruction. I...don't understand what you mean. But, Karl? Is he in a room?" 

"I don't know of any Karl, but I know of the Knight-Commander. He'll be pissed if he found you out. C'mon. We'll get you to a room." The man grabbed his arm without any more preamble and Anders flinched at the sudden movement, wondering if this was the punishment, but made no further motion to break free. The Templar had mentioned a room, and a room with Karl. He had no reason to believe they were headed to the same place, but just the idea of being in the same area was enough to withstand the tug on his arm as he was dragged, and Anders let his map continue to expand to include the dormitory area. They didn't travel far, and the hand left his arm in a sudden release of pressure and was immediately pressed against his back to shove him forward. "In here."

Anders caught himself on the closest bed and turned to ask what he was meant to do next, but the metal of the door was all he was faced. Anders did not think it capable of answering his question. He pushed off from the bed to right himself and let his eyes adjust to the gloom. Softly lit panels were embedded in the wall at intervals equal to that of beds situated against the wall, all blinking a dull orange color to mark the status of the batteries they were attached to. One lit up the shape of an android sitting upright in bed.

"Anders?"

Every uncomfortable buzz and static of error messages left unchecked for so long switched off to leave Anders in a deafening amount of silence, and he let the hum of his motors and creak of his legs make up for it as he nearly ran to the android. His knees hit the bed, the force of his weight shifting the bed frame several inches forward, and he leaned on his hands, fingers curling against knees that felt just as familiar as his own. 

"Karl." 

Fingers wrapped around Anders' hands to tug him closer and Anders willingly leaned forward. "What happened? You didn't come back." Karl's hands ran up his arms, stopping at the insides of his elbows and Anders felt wires twitch like an itch under his skin where his ports were exposed. 

"I was led to a different room. Those men, they asked me a series of questions. I answered. One required me to fix one of their radiators. I found it all rather tedious." Karl made a face as he reached up and pulled another cord from the charging station above the headboard and fit in Anders' plug. The pale skin lit up a soft orange beneath. 

Anders placed a hand over the area, feeling the warmth there, as the restlessness of Karl's disappearance was chased away by the static buzz jumping between his motors. The noise bringing him back was almost forgotten as soon as it was quieted with Karl's presence, and he sat on the edge of the bed, arm thrown alongside the other android's side while he charged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends the sort of introduction into the au and the story will pick up from here. It's going to be a slow build, really, with all of the settings and information that has to be put in. I'm going to make these chapters longer, probably about this length as a minimum, and when my last semester of uni rolls in next week I'll most likely be adding chapters on Mondays. I'm really enjoying myself writing this, though! And I appreciate the comments both on here and on tumblr.


	4. Chapter 4

Wynne circled them slowly and Anders tracked the motion. He analyzed the finger pressed to her lips and the hand on her hip that occasionally reached out to tug on a sleeve or run down a limb, her fingers drumming on exposed skin or running along a crease of a joint. Concern, he determined after another moment's pause to watch her fidgeting. Wynne was leaning down to peer more closely at Karl's arm and he shifted minutely towards him. 

Perhaps it was a continuation of yesterday's assessment. Given by the android assigned to watch over them.

"Are we not sufficient?" Anders asked, glancing down at her. He wasn't entirely sure if this examination was required and what it was, exactly, that was being examined. He found no flaw in his systems after his initial check when he was woken by a rough hand shoving at his shoulder. The fuzzy panic of his sensors screaming a problem at the jerking motions snapped him both out of the sleep mode charging had induced and into an immediate scan. He felt no injury in his metal skeleton, neither internal nor external, when he stripped to don a different robe thrown into his hands before he was directed back to the infirmary from the day before.

There had been much rough handling, Anders admitted, along the trip down the stairs and through the halls. The three Templars guiding them spoke loudly and often of their daily hardships as guards, emphasizing the difficulty of watching over 'creepy, heartless, metal cages with no sense of self-direction', but Anders found it hard to believe their words could cause any kind of bodily harm. Their shoves, however, sudden pushes down the stairs and checks to their shoulders in doorways, certainly had the ability to, and Anders wondered if that was what Wynne was searching for. 

Her attention was still on Karl's arm, her hands flipping his palm over and poking at the joints, and she glanced up, blinking slowly to adjust her focus. "Yes, of course. Your assessments ended with results exceeding expectation."

Confusion over the current procedure had his brow furrowing. "Then what is the meaning of...this?" He gestured to Karl, his arm still offered out with no complaint. The man himself was silent, and Anders watched him for any similar sign of disagreement. He was given a small smile for his look. His program called for a partnership with the android, but his behavior did not calm the warnings sounding off as it should have. 

"We're still new," Karl said, and held out his other arm. Anders took it without hesitation and linked their fingers together. The fit of their hands eased his discomfort. "They have to get used to us, and us to them. Am I correct in my thinking?"

Wynne finally dropped his arm to place a hand under her chin and shook her head. "I cannot say you are wrong, but that is not the case here. I have no such need to acclimate. It will take only a brief connection between our hard drives to share any details and information I would need to know. Any time longer adjusting is made inefficient. It is the Templars that require the time, and they do not use it wisely." She tapped his Karl's arm. "Only one day and they are already punishing you. When I was first made, they were very careful to avoid any injuries - and look at them now. Simply because you are made are hardier material." She waved the memory away with a flick of her wrist. "Your job is to mend?"

Anders found her watching him and he turned his eyes away from Karl to address her. "That is my function..." His answer trailed off when he caught her meaning and insistently tugged on Karl's arm to pull him closer and take his other hand. He found the wound easily; a tear along the inside of his wrist, where the skin covered the area of several wires involved in finger movement. He curled Karl's fingers and watched the wires shift correctly before moving to a drawer he rummaged through yesterday for a needle. If the internal systems did not need to be fixed, it was a matter of simply closing the tear shut. 

Wynn watched over his shoulder as he explained to Karl what he would do with the needle and thread, carefully tugging the edges of the scratch together. He felt her nod while he spoke to him, his programs taking over to reassure and fix and heal, and it was only a matter of seconds before the thread was cut and the scratch nothing more than a straight line just a shade off from the paleness of his wrist. Anders ran this thumb along it, careful with his nail so as not to snag, again, on the cut. 

The Templars had caused this. It was more likely that something along the wall had caught and pulled the seam open, but it was the Templars that pushed him into the wall in the first place. Purposefully, perhaps with no true intent to harm, but there had been no greater goal behind their acts. Neither he nor Karl had done anything to provoke the Templars, or so he thought, as the trouble he found himself in was due to misinformation rather than any form of misconduct. 

Yet, still, the Templars harmed. They harmed Karl. 

The thought worked its way through his processors and lit up his memory. Karl was built with him, to work with him, to be by his side constantly. They were made in Weisshaupt for a purpose - to ensure another major malfunction of androids and generators in Kinloch Hold didn't happen again - and the Templars for which they were created for were doing the exact opposite by damaging them. It would only hinder and impede their purpose. It could cause another mass power outage. It could harm Karl worse if something similar was allowed. 

"Is this is then?"

Anders snapped out of his thoughts with a whir and a flash of blue in his irises and released the pressure in his grip on Karl that had only grown as he reasoned with himself. The Templars may not have meant to harm and no significant damage meant there was no difficulty with continuing. Did Karl think the same? 

"How does it feel," Anders asked instead. 

Karl clenched his hand, once, twice, and nodded. "There is no lasting affect."

"Then we continue," Wynne said, and she folded her hands in front of her. 

They did, eventually, share their hard drives amongst them, wirelessly where the Templars could see their connections and the data shifting across wavelengths in the main guard room centered in the belly of the Circle, beneath the main production lines. Anders shared pictures with Karl as information transferred, hoping to get a sense of how he felt with the clips of video received back. Wynne herself was forced to sit, all her energy dedicated to processing and filing the copious amounts of new technologies and procedures filling her own drives to their limits. The new androids were finished with their transfer in a matter of minutes while she continued to sit for hours longer in a silence broken only long enough to greet anyone that entered the infirmary or direct them in specifics. 

Those that did visit were either Templars, come to check on their progress, or other androids interested in learning of the new models. Anders found himself greeting the Templars before Karl spotted them and remaining within their lines of sight when Karl did approach himself. Anders would not let them hurt again, intentionally this time or not. They never stayed in the infirmary long, unless Greagoir accompanied their rounds, staying for as long as it took for the Knight-Commander to ask questions and examine the equipment. Their short visits were still too long for Anders. 

They were quiet, most of the day, content to huddle in a corner when no Templar or android requested their attention. With most systems off or on standby when not in use, Karl and Anders shared words both spoken and silent. Wynne watched them carefully from her chair at the front of the room still - they're supervisor and mentor - and when the day was concluded with an automated intercom urging all androids to their rooms and Templars to the dining hall, Karl suggested walking Anders back to the room so he could find it on his own next time. 

"I started a map," Anders said as they left after the suggestion. He pulled it up over the sight of Karl pushing the last of the cots to the side of the room, clearing the floor of any unnecessary obstacles and organizing the space for tomorrow. 

"A map of what?"

"Kinloch Hold." The hallways he walked previously were filled in a soft gray, the borders of each corridor outlined in yellow with differently colored points to mark the stairwells and bathrooms. Every other area was a darker gray, devoid of any differentiating symbols, but rough estimates of floor interiors were shaped from Internet photos he'd gathered during the day. "It only correctly shows the path I was led down last night."

Karl watched him a moment longer before his gaze focused elsewhere, and Anders twisted to watch a Templar walk in. 

"We are closed," Karl said. 

"I-I know. That the infirmary is closed. The announcement." The stutter alone announced Cullen even before Ander's voice and profile check picked out the man from his memory. No broken arm, a good blood pressure, nervous. "I was ordered to return you to your room. Rooms."

"Is this because Anders was found wandering the night?" Wynne asked, and Cullen shifted on his feet several for moments when her flat eyes joined the two other androids' in watching him. 

"It is - in part. "

"Speak freely, dear." 

He jumped when she placed a hand on his arm. "Yes, well. There was also no...official placement for the new androids until as of, well, now. Karl will be returning to the same room, but Anders will have to come with me."

Anders felt joints lock up in protest and the buzz return to his circuits as the program deep inside his drives sensed an error, making it hard to process thought. "Can you repeat?"

A rough churning of the voice box imitated a scoff from Wynne and the noise was enough to scare the blood away from Cullen's face. "Did the one lost android cause this as well?"

"No, no" the Templar explained, and he licked his lips to give himself time. "There was no official placement because there was found to be a limiting number of charging stations in the room Karl was assigned. Anders is assigned to one with free stations."

"And Karl cannot be moved?" Anders clarified. 

Cullen spread his arms in an apologetic manner until he remembered Wynne's hand still gripping his arm. He dropped them back to his sides. "That's out of my hands. I can speak to the Knight-Commander." 

"I do not find that course of action necessary, so long as the situation is resolved," Wynne answered. It was a plausible explanation, one that Anders could find no reason to refute or argue Wynne's dismissal. It would prevent any problems with sharing a charging station, but it would not ease the warnings in his head. 

"Thank you. If you would follow me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After today, updates are going to be regularly added every Monday. This chapter would have been added Monday, as well, but I start my job then and wouldn't have time between unpacking back at the dorms and training to upload at a reasonable hour. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's favorite clumsy blood mage makes an appearance

Karl retired to his room with a quick look at Anders before Cullen left him with a list of instructions on charging regulations: the evening bell rang at three hours after sunset and all androids had half an hour to clean up their stations before heading to their respective rooms. Meanwhile, the Templars would wind their way through the tower to the mess hall. Dinner was held with a daily debriefing on the day's productivity, directed by Knight-Commander Greagoir. Kinloch Hold was closed when he dismissed them, and, aside from the few Templars guarding the entrances, main control room, and main power stack, all inhabitants were to return to their barracks at the established lights out until sunrise, in which the bell would sound again. Charging stations would be automatically shut off at that time and locked unless manually overrided by a Templar, in cases of overloaded or damaged androids.

Anders wouldn't see Karl until then, and the last look he received before the door slid shut wasn't nearly long enough to calm his circuits. He saved the image and kept it open to shift back to when he wasn't updating the map of the Circle. 

There was another stairwell at the end of the hall, leading up; every staircase on the east side of the hall spiraled up, and down on the west side, Anders found. The map fuzzed for a moment, adjusting to the new level, before brightening to register the new area. It had a layout similar to the floor below. Large rooms were situated to other side of the wide hallway with a common room at the very end for Templars stationed on the floor. Cullen motioned him forward. 

"If I may ask..." Anders trailed off, waiting for some sign of dismissal. The Templar made no move other than a slight stiffness of his elbows as his arms swung at his sides. The android analyzed him for a moment longer before continuing. He'd been watching the Templar for most of the walk, though more intensely when Karl was with them, for any sign of recklessness similar to that of the others. Cullen seemed more nervous than them, ready to leave his charge rather than joke about them, and though the hesitation confused him more than the aggression, he accepted the attitude more readily. "Why was it I, specifically, that was moved to a different room?"

Cullen's attention remained resolutely forward. "Karl was already in the room and, with that space available, there wasn't much of a reason to." Anders hummed softly at the answer and Cullen's stance grew tense. "Knight-Commander Greagoir called it necessary, not I."

"Are you aware of my programming?"

That made Cullen's eyebrows raise. "That you're meant to fix any androids or patch up any occupational injuries? Or are you suggesting there's something more?"

"I am not suggesting. I am stating." They were quiet as they passed a pair of Templars in the hall and Anders waited to the side until Cullen finished greeting them. The man leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, whether in stubbornness to the words or to put a physical barrier between them, Anders couldn't pick up on. "Karl and I were built together, with the intention of working in tandem. While I am fully functional on my own, my performance is limited without his presence and I am...uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? But you're...you're...?"

"Incapable of emotion?" Anders watched Cullen's gaze drop from his face to the floor in a flash of brown. The act itself told him the Templar was ashamed, possibly humiliated, that the thought had been voiced, but Anders found neither pleasure nor remorse for it. Neither did Karl's absence, give him any true emotion beyond the distracting buzzing errors in his systems. It was gone with Karl by his side and it prompted him to ask, especially since the harassment. Anders could keep an eye on him and ease his circuits. "It is not an emotion. It is an error. That I would like corrected." 

"I can...put in a request. I can't guarantee anything..." Cullen rolled his shoulders and coughed out the exhale. Anders fixed him with his gaze until he rocked back on his heels. "Right, then, this room, ah, here, is where you'll be stationed during quiet hours."

"Do androids not often send for requests?" The sooner he received an answer, the sooner Karl would be back. The static was fraying his circuits and consuming his battery, draining him, and Anders wished to be away from him as little as possible. Now that he learned where the Templars guarding focus lay, he was less accommodating to the situation. 

The Templar blinked, mouth still open to continue his statement. "You do ask quite a few questions."

"For an android." 

Cullen nodded, a short, jerky motion, hesitant in his agreement. "For an android."

"I only want to understand, which includes inquiring as to why I have to be removed. And this room?"

"Right, this room. I will...let the Knight-Commander know of your...request, but, for now, this room will be your assigned charging station." Several more Templars passed and Cullen leaned forward on the balls of his feet, eyes shifting to watch the passing patrol before returning to the android's face. "Someone will be making rounds if you have anymore...questions. You will be brought to the infirmary again at the morning bell..." 

Anders' attention shifted away from the speech the man spoke. It was the same set of instructions Karl received, and he did not need to hear it a second time. Not when the schedule was already committed to memory and his own internal alarm set. He would not need a Templar to rouse him from sleep or lead him from room to room. He was to work for them, not be their pet. 

The Templars down the hall collected at the top of the stairwell and Anders lifted his chin to catch them above Cullen's shoulders. They motioned to each other and crowded close together, and he increased his wavelength range to make our their words. They did nothing to hush their conversation and even less to hide their actions as their tones became sharp and defined, their hands clear in his vision. One pair gripped a set of arms tight, another shoved a body forward. The third tore whatever they held out of their arms. 

"You can't keep doing this, Jowan," one of them laughed, nearly chuckled. He stepped out of the way and Anders' focused on the android between the men. His hair was tousled and matted, as unkempt as the clothing he wore. They were baggy and the sleeves hung past the wrist of arms outstretched, unaware the books he'd been carrying were now on the floor. He moved to pick them up and waited for the Templar standing in front of him to remove his foot from the pile. The heel dragged against it, scoffing the cover. 

Anders started forward and Cullen lifted a hand to stop him. The palm against his chest made him wonder what he'd thought to do if he moved past. This was not his fight, but the same program telling him to protect Karl activated at the scene.

"What will administration think when we have to file another report?" The android merely watched the pile of books and the second Templar that spoke stepped forward to address him. "Will they move your deactivation date forward?"

"Anders?"

The hand was nothing compared to the shock to his systems at the threat. Anders was made of steel and electricity, stronger than any human hand, no matter how much physical training it had, and he pushed past it without a second thought. Deactivation? Because the android dropped a book? Because of its appearance? Was that what the Templars did when their machines did not meet their superficial standards? Karl's wrist would have a scratch until the skin was replaced. He, too, would be marred, and Anders' fan whirred loud to combat the heat of the processors connecting thoughts. That scratch was noticeable, and what would of mean if that could threaten deactivation for any minor out of place detail?

"Anders!" Cullen's booted feet grabbed the attention of the Templars away from Jowan and their grins softened from something feral to familiar at their coworker, eyes skimming right over the android standing before them. He passed by them with no more than a glance in their direction.

"Are you injured?" Anders moved past them, glad to be ignored, and searched the android for any external injury. There was a tear in a sleeve where the cloth had frayed, not torn, and no exposed wires or unusual noises sounded from joints when Jowan straitened after picking up his books. 

Jowan brushed the dirt etching out the boot print and shook his head. "Do you think it would solve this issue?" He didn't wait for an answer. "No. So what would be the purpose of admitting an injury?"

Anders blinked. "I would repair it. That is my function." The function given to him to service the Templars, but he would not do this for the Templars. He would help and heal and repair for the injured android, to make its daily routine easier rather than encumbered by a malfunction - not to increase its ability for the Templars, but for the the ability itself. 

"My function is delivery. Order process. Desk work." Jowan shrugged. "There are numerous others - both android and human - in the position. I am...no longer needed. An injury has no effect on the decision. If it did, I would be more than pleased to take the offer." 

"And they would deactivate you for that reason alone?" If what Jowan said was true, it was logical as to why he refrained from treatment and the upkeep of his appearance; there was no need to when the efforts would only be wasted.

Jowan nodded, and several strands of hair fell from his head to land on the pile of books. There was a small circle of missing fibers when Anders took a closer look, he found scrapes and thin, cracked skin, from previous encounters with more aggressive Templars. Templars that had no trouble pushing and shoving rather than talking, like the ones with Karl, and Anders felt the same systems coded for Karl activate with a rush of heat. Circuits pulled his mouth intro a frown and joints curled his fingers into fists and he felt....he felt...angry. Outraged, offended, enraged. The list of synonyms went on before switching to antonyms; cheerful, content, pleased. Calm. What he felt when he was working. With Karl. 

"I wish, more than anything, it could be helped," Jowan said, and Anders didn't notice the android being led away until Cullen stepped in the space he'd occupied, brow furrowed.

"You're making...this face."

"What face," Anders asked snapping his gaze from the retreating android to the Templar. The wrinkles on his forehead were sharp, severe, and he tried to wrinkle his own brow. The expression came slowly, the motion uncomfortable and unusual at first before settling into something that felt almost natural with the irritation he felt. He watched with some sort of satisfaction when the Templar's eyes widen at the change and paled when Anders forced his eyelids open further to match. He was unsure if he could change the color of his own skin. "I am...uncertain."

Cullen swallowed. "Uncertain?"

"Jowan is to be deactivated."

"Oh, ah, he told you?" His first step back down the hall faltered. "There's been a budget cut and it's been decided more efficient to send some of the mages away." They were back at the room he was to be stored in, charging,over the night, and he paused outside the door even after the Templar pulled it open. 

"Cullen." The Templar's grip on the knob tightened. "What is the function of the Templars?"

"To...guard."

"Guard what?" Anders prompted, and Cullen shifted on his feet.

"The building. From thieves and intruders. Accidents." His jaw clenched at the word. Anders hummed next to him for a moment longer, finding the sweat that beaded on Cullen's forehead pleasing. Calming the anger that Jowan's words brought up. The mistrust Cullen's answer provoked. There were other words in the databases he found, more words for irritation and joy, for boredom and contempt. Anders plugged the charger into the ports on the inside of his elbow when he found an empty bed inside the dorm and looked them all up. 

Lonely, he found last, before shutting himself down into sleep mode. Without Karl in the room, the static of his circuits left him feeling lonely.


	6. Chapter 6

Content. That was what he felt with Karl. A sense of peace when the android was besides him wrapping bandages or labeling medicines. A rush of happiness when their hands met on the reach for the same tool, the sensors in his hands responding to the pressure of his fingers and the heat of the motors working on curling his hand. 

Pride. Wynne complimented his skill of stitching when a Templar came in with a wound on his cheek from a mishap with disposing of the scrap metal from the week's work. Cleaning the wound and connecting the tissue together did not give him the same pleasure as Wynne's words as he worked. It gave the opposite, but Anders could find no word for what it was just yet. There was nothing as revolting sounding enough to encapsulate the way his sensors jumped from one extreme to the next.

He was annoyed when the lull in his work was interrupted, upset when he was pulled away from the corner with Karl at the word of a Templar, and frustrated when the Templar snapped at him to quiet when they continued their whispers with each other as they followed after. 

Sorrow was the least favorite of the emotions he found himself looking up. Anders would have preferred anger or even disappointment, but the sudden, hard drive-deep rush of static that sparked just under his skin at the sight could not be explained by anything less.

A pipe had cracked during the night. Pressure was released in the water inflow to the coal furnaces faster than the chamber could cool and the outflow pipes weakened at the temperature difference. When it was turned on in the morning and the mid-day rush for power hit, those weaknesses cracked and burst in a cloud of super-heated vapor, shrapnel, and lost electricity. The Circle was in shut down aside from the ever billowing main furnace, always churning power no matter the cost of the tower's inhabitants, and the two new units were rushed to the site to bring the androids who's jobs it were to work the coal burner back online. 

Those androids were either immobile, still soaking in the water that pressed them to the floor and torn the synthetic skin from their frames to expose wires and metal, clogging joints and sparking circuits. The others, androids out of the angle of the blast, were pressed even harder by the Templars in charge of maintaining control of the room, demanding explanations. Anders nearly started towards one of the groups in the corner until the guard leading them to the accident grabbed his and Karl's shoulder and shoved them in the direction of the broken pipe. 

"It is a tragedy," Karl said when his feet met the water line, and the whir of his word processor made it into a sigh. 

"A tragedy?" Anders tapped the toe of his boot into the water and watched the ripples carry a wire across the large puddle. "It is a massacre."

"It was an accident. There was no intent to harm." 

Anders' own processor ground mechanical chords together in a grotesque attempt of a laugh and he rubbed at the skin of his throat at the sensation. Several Templars nearby looked up from their groups to find the source of the noise and he ducked his head, answering lowly, "Not intentionally, no." Karl raised an eyebrow at him and Anders motioned with the kit in his hands at the nearest repairable android. "We should begin before the Templars question us as well."

"We were not the cause nor here at the time-" Anders interrupted him with another jerk of his kit, hard enough to rattle the contents, and Karl closed his mouth and nodded. 

The first android in need had part of its frame shattered, and Karl went to work on filling cracks with temporary molding and connecting broken beams with heavy wrappings that would have to hold until excess parts were found. Anders replaced spilled coolant in another and restarted a battery with a pulse from his own. Synthetic skin was cut around burns and bandages placed over for grafting and wires resealed, but Anders stayed away from the Templars with their own cuts and burns. He ignored their looks and spent his time slowly working through the motions of wrapping bandages and ensuring they stayed in place, asking those that could remember with fuzzy memories for information and furthering conversation if it could serve an excuse to stay there, crouched in the cooling water, while the androids in charge of electrics examined the burst pipe. 

Karl had no such qualms about healing the Templars and Anders kept a close eye on him, watching for any quick movements of their hands or sharp words. When there were no more androids to attend to, he stood by Karl's side while he finished, letting his eyebrows curve and eyes crinkle into something akin to...suspicion. If a Templar glanced his way, he forced them up once more and felt that same thrumming in his voice box as the laugh before. Like a game, he turned his features into something new and quickly pulled it back into normalcy. Always, he returned to the narrowed eyes and curved brow. Suspicion. He licked his lips, liking the way the word sounded on his tongue. 

"You did not help," Karl commented when the pipe was sealed and the guards cleared the room. It would take more than the resilient rubber filling the holes to get the burner running again, but it was the best the Circle could do on short notice. Supplies would be brought in over the following week, metal sheets for burner itself and insulation for the pipes. Weisshaupt would be contacted with request forms for specialized androids in construction. The Redcliffe scrap yard was already gathering spare parts and the infirmary would be full of those that needed replacements in the following days.

"I did." They followed the Templars back through the maze that was the refinery floor along with the mechanics. To where, he wasn't positive, but just being in close proximity was draining his battery. His arms swung sluggishly at his sides and his steps had the toes of his boots dragging across the floor. 

"The androids, yes. Not the Temp-"

"Why should I help the Templars?" Water must have found it ways past his skin to condense somewhere heavily wired from the spark that snapped in his mouth, giving a bite to the words Anders was not wholly unopposed to, but had not been expecting. Karl blinked slowly at him, eyes nearly widening and Anders found his chest tighten watching the skin of his forehead stretch in confusion. He exhaled slowly when Karl's face remained passive. 

"They are the ones which house and cloth us. They give us a purpose and steer us in productive directions. Without them, we would be nothing more than the microwaves that heat their food or the hammers that build their structures. They help us, and in turn we help them. By providing care. By-"

"By providing free labor!" His jaw was dropping with every comment Karl made, widening to encompass the arguments he had against them, and Anders couldn't stop the volume of the words before they left his mouth with another spark. He ran his tongue along the rows of his teeth to discharge leftover static. One of the Templars craned their neck over their shoulder to give them a sharp look and he ducked his head, pressing his chin against his chest to hide the clench of artificial muscle. "The Templars have us built to run a machine they do not have to work but can reap the profit from nonetheless. When we are no longer of use, they dismantle us. We are just microwaves and hammers to them - with a longer longevity." 

"Anders-" The Templar was slowing his pace, closing the distance between them, and Karl didn't look away from him to address Anders directly until the other android grabbed his wrist. He watched Anders run a finger along the line still stitched into the skin of his inner wrist.

"There is an android slated for decommission later in the week because his productivity is no longer satisfactory. I do not like the idea of fearing dismantling." 

"It is the ultimate end. How would you accomplish the abolishment of such a thing?"

_Starting small. Starting with you._ Anders pressed his thumb into the soft skin between the two structural frames that made up the inner arm, grounding himself into the now. Karl was with him. Karl would always be with him. 

Karl took his hand back with a gentle tug and Anders let him go, his frustration calmed from the contact. He lifted his eyes back up to the Templar and Anders followed suit to watch the Templar look the pair over with a flick of narrowed eyes. They were stopped by an intersecting hallway Anders had never seen before - but he had never been in this part of the tower before either. The pipe had been in the basement, above the main floor still but below the dormitories and the infirmary. The hallway ended in only one door rather than one at both ends, and it was that the Templar directed the mechanical androids towards with a sharp motion and a sharper word. 

It wasn't a long hall and Anders caught a glance of the sight behind the door before the Templar shoved them forward with another command. Light filled the area beyond the hall, different from the artificial lighting of the bulbs. Blue painted the area a soft contrast to the harsh white of the walls inside. Nature. The sky. _Outside._

Anders yanked his map up, stumbling when it covered his vision instead of pinning to a corner, and the Templar grabbed his arm in a bruising grip to drag him upright. He bit his cheek to keep from scowling, rubbing the complaining sensors under his skin when the man let go at the stairwell up to the dormitories, and pinned a marker on the map for the door. A bright blue dot pinged in the corner of his vision, and his smugness was more than enough to make up for the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on my blog (also theearlykat), you'll know I was having some trouble with this chapter. I was sort of in a rush to finish it and while I was nearing the end, I realized it wasn't sounding right. It was going where I wanted it, but not in the voice I wanted it to go. So, instead of one really big chapter, there'll be two slightly shorter chapters. Since the next one is already written (just not well-written), it may even be up before next Sunday!


	7. Chapter 7

He had to know where the door went. The image he'd captured of the bright blue had been scanned and compared over hundreds of hues, blues and grays blinking past his eyes faster than the soft orange blip that timed the progress of his charge. The station's rhythmic pulse distracted him, lighting up cold metal and scratchy sheets where colors describing sunsets and cloudless days scrolled past his retinas. It tossed the space he would know for his entire life into a darkness more shadowed than the treatment of androids. Sky, stars, sunsets, outside, his scan determined. A place where Templars did not rule. He would start there. He and Karl would leave - and that was how he found himself ripping the wires from his ports and slipping out of his sheets, already on his way out of the dorms. 

The door was locked, coded to stay resolutely shut until the timed mechanism inside clicked its release at the morning bell. There were password protections, codes, and firewalls; nothing the latest technology couldn't figure out with some time of study. It was messy and dangerous - the Templars could trace the path back to him as soon he connected his exports with the door's - but what reason was there to be careful when he would escape in the end? 

His fans where whirring loud enough to stir the androids closest to him and Anders crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the increasing heat alerting his sensors to pain and to an unusual output of energy. Condensation beaded on his skin, turning his palms clammy, as they sucked in the night air to cool overworking systems, and when the door's lock snapped open he iped his hands on his shirt before easing it open. The map was already up and the blue marker faint at the levels below. He marked the corridor a shade lighter than the default gray he'd set to mark it clear of Templars and moved on. 

It was tempting to find Karl. The constant buzzing in the back of his head at the error of being separated was dulled simply thinking about being close again, but the job of opening the door was ugly, a ragged scar in the smooth code of the tower. Failing to heal Templars was an easily over-seen mistake. Deliberate misconduct, treason even, was something that could not be ignored, and he could not promise Karl's safety if the blame was shifted to him. One android sneaking around the circle during closed hours would attract far less notice than one android explaining the necessity of the late-night excursion to an android that did not yet understand, and he turned to the other end of the hall with reluctance. When his map was properly sketched - that was when he could find Karl. 

There were Templars posted at the lobby areas after each landing, gathered for low energy activities or catching snatches of sleep. Occasionally Anders found a pair or two actively patrolling the hall, and each one was marked with another blip of light. His map could not follow their routes, not without more information, but that was time he could not waste watching them. He settled for the static markers, taking in what patterns of movement he could while waiting for an opening and circling around corners. Whatever systems he could do without were shut down to limit use, both effectively saving what minimal battery power he'd recovered and silencing motors and processors; if any Templars caught the hum of a fan or an echo of a footstep, they did not come to investigate. 

The Templars' function is to guard, Cullen had said, and Anders stopped the thought that would bring about a chuckle. 

The lobby on the floor of the door was louder than the ones previous, and Anders paused at the stairs. It was possible an alert had been sent out - certainly enough time had passed since the breaking of the firewall. Yet there were no marching footsteps, no harsh voices or commands, and Anders pushed his senses just a bit higher to pick up the noise. 

Laughter. A smash of glass. Drinking? It would make the last obstacle easier if the Templars were inebriated, and he crept closer, slowly, until he picked up another vocal range. 

"I did not-"

"It doesn't matter what you did." Loud, uncaring, a Templar. Anders' mouth turned into a frown, the action becoming increasingly more familiar. "What matters is what you're doing now. And that's entertaining us." The sound of glass came again, followed by a second laugh. Heat filled his chest despite the lack of excretion of simply standing. He didn't need to see the scene to know they were speaking to an android, and the anger that crossed his circuits pressured them into overheating. He may have wanted to begin with Karl, but he would not see another android taken advantage of if he could. 

"Sers." There were three of them, broken bottles in two of their hands - the third had one still in tact raised above his head, poised to strike, when Anders descended the final step. He cleared his face, cooled his processors with an inhale and nearly lost it in a shout when he found Jowan in the center of them. Their heads turned to him, faces twisting into varying expressions of anger, annoyance, and confusion. Anders watched Jowan's face stretch into surprise - only a slight gape of his mouth and raise of his brows - but it was enough. "I require assistance."

"What?" one demanded while another shouted a "We're busy."

"I require assistance." The repeat had the Templar lowering his arm and turning his whole body rather just his head. "There was a malfunction in the dormitory. A door was unlocked."

"They're timed. They shouldn't open," a second argued.

The third nodded his head to add, "The dorms aren't anywhere near this floor." Both had yet to turn away from Jowan and Anders forced his frame to seem smaller, lowering his shoulders and flattening his hands against his side. 

"My function is to mend. I cannot understand the mechanisms. I apologize for seeking aid. Do I have assistance?" He dared to lift his gaze from Jowan to address the Templars and only returned it to the android when he found the reluctant nods and grumbled agreements. 

"We'll get someone up there. Go back to your room and wait there." The game was over, the intact bottles placed on the table and the broken ones crunching underfoot, and Jowan paused before slinking away, glancing over his shoulder twice before he was climbing the stairs. Anders eyed the juncture in the hall beyond the lobby, for a moment only, and then the Templars were gripping his shoulders and marching him back towards the stairwell. The door would have to wait for another time. 

Jowan was waiting at the top of the landing. There were Templars further along their predicted route back to the dorms, and Anders was pleased Jowan had not tried to venture further. The guards may have thought to start up their game once more or dragged others into their fun, but Anders would not allow it. 

"There is no reason to continue stopping them," Jowan said, falling into line next to him. The Templars were a short step behind them, but in low whispered and heightened hearing, there was no need to fear any eavesdropping. "It does not matter the state in which I am called for on the day of removal, yet you insist on my well-being. It changes nothing save my opinion. I will still be sent for Redcliffe. I will still be dismantled for spare parts. I will-"

"Are you angry?" Anders interrupted. He glanced down at the clenched fists by Jowan's side before meeting his eyes once more. There were no furrowed lines across his brow or tightness to his mouth. 

"I am not...angry. I am..." He paused, relaxing his hands. "Apprehensive." 

"That is why." Jowan raised his brows and the action reminded him of Karl. Karl, who thought this way of life was fine as it was. Karl, who was in danger, like every other android, from harm at the hands of men. Karl, who did not believe change was necessary - nor possible. "Non should fear a tomorrow that is not in their hands."

"The Templars-"

"Are the problem." Jowan clenched his hands again. "What did they do to you?"

"Does it matter?" Anders nodded and the android lifted a hand to brush back dark hair, revealing a cut above the curve of his brow. "There was an anger throughout the order due to the pipe burst. They dare not take it out on those in charge of patching it up. They dare even less to blame one another. Those that have no purpose in the reconstruction, that will not be missed..."

Anders found his own hands tightening into fists, nails digging into the meat of his palms. How could Karl see no issue when there were accounts such as these? Fears such as these? Was no one concerned about the state of the Circles? Was he simply the only one that could see? 

"Come to the infirmary tomorrow and I will have it looked at."

Jowan ran a finger along the edge of the cut. "I said it does not matter-"

"I will have it looked at." He would do more than look. He would do more than look at all the injuries of the androids that would come in the next few days caused by the accidents. He would work to show the others the problem with the Templars, with this tower. He would not let another Templar touch anyone, and thought Karl suggested his anger was blinding him to the true scope of the situation, the amount of work needed for such a feat was not intimidating. Not if it could keep any more injuries from befalling Jowan, Karl, from befalling any at the hands of the Templars; he was made for work, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've spent so much time away from this I'm so sorry. I found myself with a lot of doubt about continuing this fic. I felt like I was both going too fast and too slow and gave it up, but after a friend found it and told me she was interested in hearing more, I tried my best to pick it up again. I really don't have any excuses for letting this fic sit around as it has been. I'm not sure if I'll be making an official come back with this, rewrite it, or try to push through it, but I have a small update to at least get a feel for what I might want to do. 
> 
> If anyone has any suggestions for how the pacing has been or things that could be done to make it flow better, please feel free to let me know. Thank you for coming back for this little addition.

A Templar was at the door just before the scheduled morning bell announced the start of the day and the unlocking of the doors. There was a click of the manual lock and then the hollow drone of the speaker. Anders hovered out in the hall long enough to see the door's battery changed and for the Templar's short patience to run, and he was shoved off to the infirmary with both a grunted "That should fix it," and a physical press of rough hands pushing him down the hall. Anders' skin itched with the touch and he rolled his shoulders to relieve the phantom feeling of fingers pressing hard into the softness above the metal that framed out his shoulder blades. It was too early to be frustrated, and one Templar's grievance was nothing against the relief of seeing Karl in the infirmary, safe through another night. 

His late night excursions had earned him consequences.

Anders had to wind his way through a maze of boxes and crates to reach him, a strange sort of reflection of the challenge posed to him by the Circle's door. Stacks were placed unevenly across the floor and took up space on every available surface - space that Karl was trying to clear. When the rest of the tower awoke, the androids and human staff would be caught up in the seriously injured of the accident, and the cots and benches would be desperately needed to hold their numbers. 

"The orders came in last night," Karl explained with a brief look up from the stack he was rummaging through to nod at the door. A sheet of paper was tacked on it. "There is a list of their contained items. We are to go through them and assure they are all accounted for."

Anders turned his back to wedge his hand in the crease of a package and tear through the tape, yanking the folds apart with more force than a sheet of cardboard necessarily needed. "Did the Templars ask this of us?" He hadn't found the need to constrict his vocal chords into something more stressed than conversational, but he found Karl watching him with a frown, waiting for his frustration. Anders continued to wrestle with the package. 

"Wynne suggested this process, not the Templars. She was in here earlier to guide the delivery to the proper room when I asked what should be done with them. I thought her plan efficient." Karl paused and Anders counted the seconds between his next words, straightening when they did not come. Karl only spoke again when he caught his eye. "Not everything you find cumbersome is a fault of the Templars."

"You are aware the Templars were the ones to order this shipment after this involvement with the accident?" His voice was deepening, static turning his words gravely. He tried to keep his systems level, but it was difficult when Karl refused to understand his point of view, saw no need for his anger, and though it was not frustration that would change his mindset, it was frustration that Anders found clogging up his processors. 

"I was aware it was a burst pipe."

"A pipe the Templars built." A second box tore open in half under his hands, nearly spilling the rolls of bandages onto the floor and out of their bundles, and Anders moved on to a second stack after throwing them back into the damaged box. His fingers nearly sank through the side until a hand on his wrist prevented him from simply punching through. 

"Anders." The grip around his arm tightened a fraction when he tried to pull away. "Anders. There is no need to damage the shipments."

"I cannot damage the Templars." A burst of electricity snapped between his jaws and made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Karl's hand released him, yet he didn't continue the dismemberment of the package, instead twisting to follow Karl's retreating form across the room with his eyes. He worked his jaw to let the static free and shape the words in his mouth. "They are allowed to damage the building and its inhabitants and...and receive no kind of punishment. If my assumptions are close to correct, and I do believe them to be correct, they are even possibly encouraged, yet you only wish to unpack boxes." When Karl only blinked at him, he rubbed at his forehead with his knuckles. Simple emotion would not get through to him. Anders wondered why he tried the tactic first at all, and switched to a different strategy. "After the broken pipe the other day, there were Templars throwing bottles at an android." 

"This is what makes you...angry."

"Yes. It makes me angry. How does it not make you anything less than concerned?" 

"I am concerned. For you." Anders clenched his jaw, feeling a gear grind, when Karl shook his head to prevent him from debating. "I have told you that there is no reason for anger. You think I do not understand - that any android that is not agreeing with your hatred must be seeing something different. Anders, I understand, but you must understand myself when I say anger will not work. The Templars can hurt us, I know that they do, and they will only get worse the more anger you show. I am concerned, truly. I fear they will...do something."

Anders turned his focus back onto unpacking. He pulled the bandages and spare parts from the box, counting each one out as he placed them on the table and organizing them by function. He kept his back turned to Karl, if only to keep the android from seeing the fury on his face, frame structure visible under his deep frown and eyes alight. He had not understood Karl, and a new feeling coiled, heavy, in the framework of his ribs. A type of fear, not for Karl, but for himself about Karl. He had been wrong, his thought processes inaccurate, speech ineffective. He was not meant to be wrong, in anything he did. A mistake was made, on his part. 

Karl was not blind to the injustice of the Templars. He saw it well and fully and where Anders remained static, Karl adjusted, adapted. He had not accounted for such a course of action, and put blame on his counterpart. Karl was afraid, as he was, that the other would be harmed and was simply doing what each own believed to be effective. 

Karl returned to the stack of boxes still unopened, sheet of product papers in one hand. "I apologize." He took the stack from him to begin filling it out. 

"I appreciate your understanding."

**Author's Note:**

> It started out with BloodMouth asking about a Robot AU, and a few hours later we had something somewhat fleshed out that wasn't the entirety of Big Hero 6. I'm really excited about this and about learning how to make this kind of au work, and it would be really appreciated if I could get thoughts on what may or may not work as this progresses, or, you can send a message to my tumblr: iamthehivemind.


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